


The Care of Precious Little Things

by Okadiah



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Black Hat cares, M/M, ambiguous demonic origins, but Flug is a thing to him, pensive Black Hat, sleep deprived Flug, so is that really caring?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 02:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11545521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okadiah/pseuds/Okadiah
Summary: When Black Hat notices Doctor Flug is on the brink of working himself to death, he decides his favorite thing requires a personal visit to fix the problem. But before he does that, he thinks back on just why Doctor Flug is his favorite thing in the first place.





	The Care of Precious Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Here's a little Black Hat meets Doctor Flug origin story I've had stewing in my head for a little while. I hope you like it, so enjoy! I'd love to know what you thought :]
> 
> If you're interested, follow me on [my Villainous tumblr](https://villainous-darling.tumblr.com/)!

Over his long existence, Black Hat had collected many things.

They were varied, those things. Some were valuable things. Horrible things. Powerful things. Things for blackmail and coercion. Things to con people out of their precious money. Others were things to make them smile. Things to make them cry. Things to make them bleed and scream. Things for idle amusement and sharp, hedonistic pleasure. He had a great many things.

But there was one thing he favored most. One thing which rose above the riches and the power and the fame. A silly thing, really, but his most precious thing all the same.

A soul. His first soul. The very first soul that had ever called out to him and offered itself to him completely, for all eternity. It was the single most valuable thing he possessed.

And he was going to visit it now.

Black Hat prowled the writhing halls of Black Hat Inc., clad in his immaculate suit and the curling velvet of darkness. His feet never made a sound. The smirk on his lips was almost invisible, if not for the faintly radiant glow of his teeth.

It was well past midnight and everyone was asleep. He knew they were, partly because he had secret cameras placed in each occupant’s rooms — even Demencia’s, though that was more for his own peace of mind than anything else. He’d rather know where she was than be surprised by her presence in his bed. Again. But more accurately, he knew they were deeply sleeping because he could feel their various life forces settled into calm states. States of relief. Of imagination and solitude.

Well, all except one.

Black Hat grinned as he stepped ever closer to the lab.

Doctor Flug, as always this time of night, sat hunched over his chemicals – or his drawing board, or his welder, or electronics depending on the project– struggling against sleep as if to beat it back. As if he feared it. Black Hat leaned against the doorway, deep in the shadows. He wondered what Flug dreamed of. Well, he wondered what Flug dreamed of _now_ , anyway. As the man’s employer and master, Black Hat made a point of checking the scientist’s dreams on a quarterly basis, usually when he checked over the finances and sales trends.

Truly, he didn’t need to really look. It was always the same thing, but then again, that _was_ why he loved to check. For the ego-boost.

Him. Flug dreamed of him.

Just as he should.

Black Hat took a small, silent sniff of the air, and savored it like a fine wine. There was the smell of the machinery, of chemicals, but most potently was the slightly sour smell of Flug himself. Of sweat and sanitizer and brown paper bag. Of clothes the scientist had been wearing for days now, because he couldn’t bring himself to leave long enough to do more than pound a cup of coffee or take a piss.

There was something admirable in Flug’s dedication to his work, that he’d disregard even self-care and hygiene. But the smell of Flug wasn’t what Black Hat savored. No, it was what was _inside_ Flug that made his non-existent heart squeeze and his stomach ache with hunger and delight. That wonderful, delectable, perfect soul.

His very first one.

Memories swept along his mind, and Black Hat let them tug him under for the time being. It had been so long ago, and he’d been young then; practically a newborn. That had been a time of spells and belief. Of dark things and rituals. Deals and sacrifices. Good and powerful times for the strong.

Weak times, for him anyway, if not for his own ambitions. Those, as always, were powerful and grand, even if he had not been. Even if he had still been looking for one, _just one_ , to vow their soul to him of their own free will for forever. To launch him into another state of being. Evolve him into something stronger. More powerful.

Patience was a virtue, and it had been a hard one for him. It always had been. He’d tried everything in the book to lure a soul in. To convince it to submit to his will for eternity. Conning, corrupting, skewing, demanding, forcing, but no. Nothing he’d tried back then worked. Nothing had taken. Sap after sap fell for his tricks, but the tricks never paid off in anything other than gore, a dead body, and overwhelming disappointment.

When the waiting became too shameful and his patience had been eaten away, he’d considered giving up his ambitions. Weakness was painful, but the hope that he’d claw himself out of it one day was even worse. He’d been ready to give it up and go back to the pit. There was always need for a clever torturer, and he’d always been more than clever at that.

Then that one, perfect soul had stumbled upon him almost completely by accident.

Black Hat, tired of the game at the time, had given it to the lad straight. No lies. No tricks. In truth, he’d just wanted the sniveling mortal to go away and leave him be. He hadn’t _actually_ thought the lad would take him seriously.

Through nothing but routine and boredom, Black Hat had offered the deal, laid it out in clear detail, and was sure it would send the kid running back to the graces of God as it had every other fool. He’d fully expected it. The lad was hardly out of adolescence, after all, with barely any meat on his bones to make for any sort of satisfying meal. The kid even stuttered over his words in fear.

But instead of running, the lad babbled about being weak. Being abandoned. That no one understood him or his work. That no one would ever care or love him, and that God had forsaken him.

The offer was hardly out of Black Hat’s mouth when the boy had readily accepted, and to Black Hat’s astonishment, it took.

The kid, of course, was killed on the spot; his soul sucked out and rendering his meat sack nothing more than chum to float along the water. But there before Black Hat had been a soul. A soul he now owned. Forever. His very first human soul.

It had radiated fear as it hung before him, glowing pure and bright and a strange greenish-yellow. When he’d reached for it, it had squirmed as if trying to escape. To avoid the taint of his flesh. Flee his grasp as he held it in his palm, caught like a desperate little bird.

But then the most marvelous thing of all happened. When Black Hat had tightened his fist around the pulsing ball of light, tighter and tighter as if to strangle it to nothing, it had done the damnedest thing. It relaxed. Gentled in his hold before submitting into perfect obedience and radiant brilliance. Like that, he’d been able to feel it’s every emotion, the two strongest singing out like a duet. Fear and desire. It offered him its oxymoronic loyalty for eternity.

He’d consumed it. Then and there. Let it settle in his chest like a ball of never-ending energy all for his use, eternally damned.

Black Hat still remembered the feeling of contentment at, for the first time in his sinful existence, being so blasphemously full. Of having his power abruptly expand and grow. Strengthen. Of turning into something better and new.

As per his contract, Black Hat had used that power to destroy the city his soul had despised. Then – just because he could be grateful sometimes when he was in the mood – he even sunk the city beneath the waves. Let it rot away in the waters and in the minds of men.

Black Hat had always been rather proud of that one.

The soul fueling him had been vibrant and red then, pleased and satisfied, willing to do everything it could to fulfill Black Hat’s every desire. And thus began an eternity of cooperation. Master and slave.

The soul, of course, wasn’t perfect. It had the irksome quality of being temperamental, wobbling between devoted obedience and terrified reluctance _constantly._ But even when Black Hat had consumed a second soul, a third, a ninth, his hundredth, they never glowed as bright as his first. Never mattered the same way that first one did. Were never as powerful or loyal.

He often ate these lesser souls, bled them of energy until their breaking point. Then he broke them and let them fade away into nothing.

Sometimes he thought his first soul craved the oblivion Black Hat bestowed on the lesser souls he won and consumed. It made Black Hat smile gently at it, as if he were smiling at a small, crying child. There would never be any escape for his favorite – because that first soul would _always_ be his favorite. No escape. Not unless Black Hat himself was killed, at which point they’d both vanish into nothing.

Which _had_ almost happened. Once. Really, he chalked it up to nothing more than youthful arrogance.

But there was no denying the fact he’d almost perished, and with him his precious first soul. It had flickered in his chest where it had sat for over a thousand years, valiantly feeding him everything it had in an attempt to keep him alive. It had almost burned itself out.

Perhaps it had tried to give him everything it had in the hopes extinguishing itself, but Black Hat preferred to think of it as loyalty and devotion.

Regardless, it had been an … enlightening experience. Though there had always been the highly unlikely possibility that he would one day die, he hadn’t truly considered it. Similarly, he’d never considered the effect it would have on his most precious soul. It had nearly spent itself completely just to save him. That could never be allowed to happen again.

It was after that, that Black Hat came up with a brilliant idea. A failsafe. A backup, if anyone should ever try to kill him again.

He’d let his perfect first soul out again, to live lives as a human. Only it wouldn’t be just that lovely little soul anymore. There would be a part of Black Hat embedded in it, tainting it in the faintest ways, reminding it always who it belonged to, and what it would always yearn for. But not only that, Black Hat kept a piece of that soul lodged in his body too, just in case something happened to it while it was away from home. An anchor, should his little soul’s body die prematurely. An anchor which would always bring it back to him.

This failsafe would also ensure that, in the … event Black Hat should meet his demise, it wouldn’t be a true death. The part of him which resided with his first soul would survive, and so he would survive until he grew strong enough again to consume his first soul’s body and take back his form. Similarly, keeping a piece of his first soul embedded in himself assured the soul, when its body died, would survive and come right back to its proper home again. A truly elegant plan.

It didn’t always work out right, the reincarnation process. Despite how careful Black Hat was when choosing the birth parents of the soul he owned, sometimes the child came out … wrong. Revolting, not in appearance, but in manner, or nature. They’d be unerringly … _good_. Or decidedly useless, lacking in the various qualities it usually displayed which he adored.

Perhaps it was in the rearing, or the genetics? He’d never been sure with those cases, nor had he cared enough to truly find out. He’d only done the rational thing and killed the incarnation on the spot, if it became something less than befitting an object of _his_. Then he tried again and hoped for better success.

During the times the incarnations were acceptable, he let his little soul grow on its own for a varying number of years, usually however long it took him to grow bored. Sometimes that was in a handful of decades. One time he’d waited ninety years, and his little soul had lead a disgustingly fulfilling life. Another time he’d found it just after it had turned five years old.

That one hadn’t been a long incarnation. Black Hat was not one for children.

But whenever he did search it out, it was only a matter of time before it submitted to his will. Willingly, if wonderfully terrified, it followed him into whatever it was Black Hat did or desired to do. It was usually different every time. Arms dealer. Terrorist. Deadly physicians. Once they’d made a very successful reputation as graverobbers. But eventually a flaw in the incarnation would surface and remind him that the only acceptable form for his soul was when it was nothing more than a soul, trapped in his chest.

When that happened, he usually didn’t hesitate to abort the incarnation. Squirrel it away for a time before he let it out again.

This incarnation, however, was perfect. Right when Black Hat was starting to get bored, thinking of searching for his favorite thing again, it — he — had walked himself up to his front door to answer Black Hat’s listening for a position as lead scientist. Twenty-five years away from home, and his soul had managed to become exactly what Black Hat needed him to be. Brilliant. Useful, though he’d never say it out loud. Terrified. Submissive. Black Hat hadn’t even had to look for him.

Of course, Black Hat couldn’t let on. That was part of the fun. He’d grilled his little scientist for every detail of his pathetic life, partially to relieve boredom, but also out of some minuscule amount of curiosity. After a while, the bodies of his precious soul had started to look the same. But this was the first time it had ever worn a paper bag over its head before. Odd behavior, for a human.

Beside this one oddity, it was like experiencing a blast from the past.

Timid. Thin. Pathetic. Desperate. The scent wafting off him had been like the finest gourmet meal, and Black Hat had struggled not to eat him on the spot. Consume his body and soul again. It still was a struggle sometimes, but his soul’s creativity and unexpected compliance to so many morally questionable things kept Black Hat interested in more than just a delicious meal. That would come in time, one way or another, but until then he was content to see what his first could do.

At the very least, his first soul was amusing as much as he was annoying. Capable of creating anything, but always with some great flaw. He made the impossible possible, but always in a haphazard, jury-rigged, falling apart sort of way.

Not that Black Hat had given him a whole lot of leeway in that, admittedly. Since his first had walked himself right back where he belonged, there was no way Black Hat was going to allow him to waltz out again. Fear kept Flug here as his minion and scientist, but Black Hat always grinned with pride and pleasure when he sensed confusion waft from the man as to why he wasn’t trying to leave at all. Why he was so obedient. Why he was so drawn to a demon monster, when reasonably he should be running away screaming. Black Hat loved it. And perhaps, in the most distant, hollow way possible, he loved Flug for it too.

And now his weak, little scientist was working himself to death, nodding off in the middle of a chemical reaction. A chemical reaction, Black Hat suspected, which could blow this half of the mansion to oblivion, killing Flug and leaving him to decide if he’d reincarnate the fool again, or consume him and run him hard as punishment. Give him a reminder that things could be worse, and he shouldn’t displease Black Hat again.

That would be unacceptable.

Black Hat reached out with his mind and nudged Flug awake, and he watched the paper bag jerk as the man was jolted into wakefulness. Flug squawked at his predicament before he quickly finished the work and set it down. Once it was relatively safe again for Flug, Black Hat manifested behind the thin man.

“Hello, Flug.”

The puny scientist yelped and scrambled, lurching to put his back to the wall as his entire frame began to tremble. Black Hat enjoyed the smug roll of pleasure that always came when this weak little man attempted to protect his back like this. Quaked with fear.

Through those dark goggles, Black Hat could make out the delicate contraction of Flug’s pupils, reacting to his dread. They held Black Hat in his gaze as if the demon was the only thing in the world that mattered. As if his life balanced precariously on the edge of a knife, and Black Hat was the one who might push him over.

And that was just as it should be. In Flug’s world, Black Hat should be the _only_ thing that mattered. That would ever matter. Because though the fear filled the timid scientist’s eyes, made his body shake with terror to the point of pissing himself, deep within, Black Hat knew Flug’s deepest secret. The thing that terrified the man more than even Black Hat did.

That he would never escape. And that he never even wanted to.

“B-black Hat, sir!”

Black Hat prowled forward, every step he made snapping the air like a whip. Flug flinched at every one, and Black Hat glowered as if with disapproval. In truth, there was no disapproval. Only amusement. Only pleasure. But watching the scientist riddle him away ….

“Flug,” he said once he’d invaded deep into the man’s personal space. It was something Flug hated, and how could Black Hat stop himself from indulging every chance he had? “I would be displeased if you blew yourself up, nodding off as you are. I’d have to look for a new scientist. It would be a waste of my valuable time, and you _know_ how I hate to waste time.”

“I know, sir!” Flug squeaked. “But you said you wanted this done by morning!”

He had, and Black Hat did remember. But what was the fun of being the boss, of being in charge, of being a most fearsome demon and entrepreneur, if he didn’t take advantage of it?

A tentacle manifested along Black Hat’s spine, slithering from up high to slip out along his coat tails. It wrapped around Flug’s nearest leg, preventing escape. He felt the weak muscles there tense, pull tight like a prey animal making a final attempt to flee. Black Hat’s hands snagged Flug’s thin wrists and tugged them up high where another tentacle held them there.

Panic wafted off the man like the headiest cologne and Black Hat drank it in like an offering.

He placed a hand over Flug’s heart. The organ beat rapidly there, protected by the weak carbon cage of his sternum and ribs. It throbbed like a song for him, racing faster, higher. Black Hat wondered sometimes if Flug could achieve cardiac arrest just from this touch alone. He half suspected the scientist hoped that would be the case, for his own sake.

But Flug never would. Not with that dark fragment of Black Hat’s own … soul? Being? Whatever it was _he_ was when devoid of a body, not with _that_ planted deep within. Bonded for all eternity.

Black Hat stared at the current incarnation of his precious first soul, and there was no room for anything except obedience.

“Then get it done in the morning. I don’t care if it’s rushed or if it decimates a city because it’s not perfect. It just has to sell. And that means you,” he grinned, and it was filled with dominance. “Can’t work yourself to death. Not even an accidental death. Not yet. There’s still so much I need you to do, Doctor Flug.”

The doctor stared at him, flummoxed. Black Hat waited patiently for Flug to put it together.

“You … you want me to stop?” Flug all but stammered when Black Hat hadn’t said or done a thing for several agonizing seconds. Black Hat nodded, grin still in place, and he knew Flug expected some sort of catch. Some hidden threat. And he was right to think that. Though Black Hat was trying to get Flug to stop, he didn’t want him to recover completely. Just enough to keep his scientist’s body functioning enough that it wouldn’t die on him. “I … really?

“That’s,” Black Hat ran a hand sensually down from the rapid pound of Flug’s heart along the lithe muscles of his stomach hidden away by that silly airplane shirt. He pulled his hand away only once he reached the top of the scientist’s jeans, but not before plucking the belt buckle there suggestively. “What I said.”

Flug swallowed and Black Hat heard it. He watched the man’s Adam’s apple bob from under the edge of the paper bag, and wondered just how long this incarnation of Flug was going to last. He was tempting. Perhaps too tempting.

Black Hat pulled his tentacles away quickly, stunning the thin man by their abrupt disappearance before he pulled a smile on, sure to show every single one of his sharp, teal teeth.

“When I check next, you had better be out cold. Or you will wish you had been.”

Flug was already sprinting away, his blood-stained white coat flapping after him. Black Hat smirked.

However long this incarnation lasted this time, there was no doubt in his mind he wanted it to last for quite a while. This type of Flug was a rare treat indeed. So similar to the way he’d been the very first time. Terrified. Ambitious. Torn. Devoted.

Perfect.

Black Hat smiled when, not even five minutes later, he felt Flug’s presence collapse into an exhausted state of sleep. Satisfied, he continued his stroll and let himself fade into the darkness with nothing more than a whisper.


End file.
